


Bad Taste

by TheBlackMagister



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Kidnapped Rick, Kidnapper Negan, Kidnapping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pseudo-Incest, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: Negan is Rick's whole life - quite literally. He's not aware of how bad their situation really is.





	Bad Taste

**Author's Note:**

> have u noticed how my regan fics are getting more and more depraved :thinking:  
> just for reference: rick is ~18-19 in this fic, negan is somewhere around 45

Rick doesn’t remember a time before Negan.

Rick knows the story, of course. Negan’s told him more times than he has fingers. He’d been about six when Negan had found him sitting by himself, playing games on his iPad. The man had immediately scooped him up and began the search for his parents. The man had searched high and low, even going so far as to try to find anyone Rick might know, but to no avail. So, unable to find Rick's parents - as Negan had put it, "there's no damn lost and found for kids, you know?" - Negan had brought him home.

And he’s been with Negan since. He’s got a good life here; he’s grateful for Negan’s rescue way back when. The man is the best father Rick could have asked for, really; most of his material wants, he gets. Negan had given him the best schooling possible. There'd always been food on the table, clean clothes, a roof, and things for Rick to play with. They'd moved around a lot, sure, but Rick had never thought that too bad, all things considered. Yeah, Negan is good to him. He adores the man.

“Rick!” Negan calls from across the house, and Rick lifts his head, drawn from his reminiscing. “The laundry been done yet?”

“Yeah!” He shouts back. He puts the rest of the laundry into his basket, shuts the door with his foot, and heads for the source of Negan’s voice. Negan’s in his bedroom, clad in only his boxers, rummaging through his closet. He glances up and relaxes as he catches sight of the basket of clothes, grinning lightly up at Rick.

“Good. Thanks, Rick. Fresh outta the dryer?”

“Yessir,” Rick says brightly, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Nice an’ warm. You goin’ out?”

“’Fraid so.” Negan huffs, fishing a shirt from the basket and tugging it on. “Business calls.”

Rick’s smile slips into something closer to a pout. “Oh. Right. So.. when will you be home?”

Negan gives a little sigh. “I dunno, honey. Probably late. You know how long these things run..”

Rick does know, all too well. He doesn’t know exactly what it is Negan does, just that every so often Negan has to go out for ‘business’, usually for several hours and lasting long into the night. Rick doesn’t like it, doesn’t like Negan being away for so long, but it’s their source of income, so it’s a necessary evil. It's mid-afternoon - so it'll probably be close to midnight when Negan returns home..

“Don’t stay up waiting for me,” Negan warns, correctly interpreting Rick’s silence, as he pulls some pants on. “Fuck knows when I’m gonna be home, and I don’t want you awake half the night.”

Rick scowls a little, but reluctantly he agrees. “Alright,” He mumbles. “But you’ll tell me when you do get home?”

“If you’re awake.” Negan softens at the frustrated expression on Rick’s face and gently pulls Rick in for a warm hug. Rick sighs, melts into it, hiding his face in the man’s shoulder. “I know you don’t like it. Believe me, I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.”

Rick nods. Negan’s warm scent is comforting – stale cigarette smoke and worn leather, and something undefinable but undeniably _Negan_. It’s _home_. “Come back safe,” He says, voice muffled. Negan chuckles and kisses the top of his head in a way that Rick has come to think of as fatherly.

“I will, honey. I always do. I’ll leave you some money for food if you want it – and make sure you get to bed on time-”

Rick rolls his eyes, pushes Negan away playfully. “I know. I’m not a kid anymore, Negan.”

“I know.” Negan smiles ruefully, head shaking. “Just.. it’s hard to remember I don’t have to look after you anymore. You’re a big boy now.”

Rick chuckles, head dipping. “Yeah, I am. At least you can take comfort knowin’ you raised me right, though?”

“Mm.” Negan presses another warm kiss to Rick’s forehead. Then he shrugs on his leather coat and picks up his keys, and the two of them head to the living room. Rick manages to squeeze one more quick hug from Negan, and then Negan’s heading out, the front door clicking shut behind him.

And now – unfortunately – Rick is home alone.

Previously, he’d had school to do while Negan was away. He’d been homeschooled, for the most part, with teaching aids online, so he’d really been able to do as he pleased. That’s not the case now, though; he’s done with his schooling, so he has nothing to do all day. _We should get a dog_ , he thinks glumly, flipping on the TV and throwing himself down on the couch. Or a cat – he’s not picky. Anything he can play with while he’s alone.

He turns the TV to Animal Planet and stretches his legs out across the couch. They’re running a program about.. lions, or something. He rubs at his eyes and groans out loud. He wishes he could go outside, go for a walk, _something_ – but Negan doesn’t like him to go out by himself, and he’s too obedient to disobey.

It’s only been five minutes, give or take, but Rick already misses Negan. Maybe he’s just achingly lonely, but more likely, he’s just grown used to Negan’s presence, of which there is a lot. He’s used to Negan wandering around singing loudly, or cuddling up with him on the couch, or otherwise being funny and loud and _here_.

He considers pulling out the little phone Negan had bought him and sending a text. He’s not supposed to use it outside of emergencies, though, and he doesn’t think lack of attention is an emergency. So he lays his head back and sighs, and he spends most of the day lounging around, bored out of his mind. He tries to keep Negan’s words in his mind – _better to be safe and bored than in danger_ – but it’s hard to believe when he’s _this_ bored.

Eventually he grows bored watching television, even with the cute man on the show, and decides to try to fill his day with other things. He does another few loads of laundry, cleans up the house in between, and then, when he’s out of things to do, he finds a sheet of paper and some pencils and lays himself out on the floor to draw.

By the time he finishes doodling, night is just beginning to fall, so he decides to head to bed early. Negan will expect him to be asleep, anyway. He hops into the shower and washes himself, and then, feeling bold and lonely, he pulls on one of Negan’s shirts to sleep in. He doubts Negan would be mad about such a thing, but he’s still a little embarrassed about being so needy.

He always gets this way when Negan leaves, though. Negan’s his only company from day to day, and being left alone never sits right with him. It only sinks in how alone he really is when Negan leaves.

And, lately, he's noticed new, tentative feelings for the man. He can't quite describe it in any way other than  _weird_ ; he just knows that they're there, eliciting a weird, slightly sick feeling in his belly when Negan brushes a touch on his skin. Negan has given no indication of these feelings in any capacity, either, so Rick has started to wonder if maybe there's something wrong with  _him_. He can only guess that he's probably fucked up, regarding Negan in this new way. He's confused about all of it.

Well. Rather than dwell on the mess that is how he feels about Negan, he decides to go to bed.

His gaze strays to Negan’s bed. _That_ is a no-no. When he was small, Negan had allowed him to crawl into the bed, usually after a bad dream; but as he’d gotten older, Negan had gently told him that was something he just couldn’t do anymore. He stays in his own bed, and that’s that. But..

But Negan isn’t here to tell him not to.

Feeling a little spark of joy at this minor defiance, he slides into Negan’s bed. The mattress is soft, plush, and everything from the pillows to the sheets smell like Negan. He’s comforted by the man’s scent surrounding him, and he settles down into it, burying his face in one of the pillows and pretending he’s not all by himself.

He falls asleep like that, only to be startled awake several hours later by the front door opening and closing. He’s frightened for a moment, still very sleepy. Then he reasons it’s probably just Negan returning home, and he lets his head fall back to the pillow, his eyes shutting again.

Oh, shit. It’s probably Negan returning home.

His first instinct is to jump up and flee to his own room. But he knows he won’t make it; Negan would see him and definitely question him about it. So he decides his best bet is to lay still, pretend to be asleep, and hope Negan won’t question it. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to even out his breathing, despite the pounding of his heart as the bedroom door opens.

The room is quiet for a few moments. Then Negan snorts a soft laugh. Rick is, admittedly, relieved that Negan’s not going to kick him out, or be angry. After a pause full of rustling clothes Negan joins him in bed, skin bare save for his boxers. Okay, yeah, now Rick can kind of see why Negan told him not to do this; an embarrassed heat burns in his cheeks.

“You’re awake,” Negan says, matter-of-factly. He puts a hand on Rick’s back, and Rick swallows hard, nodding weakly. “Don’t be afraid, honey, it’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” Rick mumbles. “I know you don’t..”

“It’s okay.” Negan kisses the top of his head gently, squeezes his shoulder. “I’m not mad, sweetheart. Promise. But if you do this again, you'll have to go back to your room. Okay?”

Rick nods, closing his eyes. He’s still a bit nervous, really, but as Negan turns away from him and settles down into the mattress, he figures he’s fine. Negan’s never hit him, or anything – of course not – but the disapproving look on the man’s face doesn’t feel any better. Still, Negan’s letting him stay, and that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

He drops off again, his head swimming.


End file.
